


Quiet Time

by RainbowMagicMarker



Series: Jane Shepard [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Early/Hinted FShep/Garrus, Gen, Mass Effect 2, Meditation, Religious Discussion, Ship Chats, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect), Spacer (Mass Effect), friendfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 14:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2072448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowMagicMarker/pseuds/RainbowMagicMarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When your Cabin is bugged and the entire universe wants your help, sometimes you just need to find somewhere quiet. For Commander Shepard this often ends up being the main battery, to Garrus' general discomfort. Hinted F!Shep/Garrus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Time

Shepard was nervous on a Cerberus vessel, and as much as she liked the crew it wasn't something she could get over easily. There was no surprise at all that she preferred to spend her off hours with Vakarian and Tali'Zorah, at least not to the two of them. Nor to Kelly Chambers who had already learned to take messages or put individuals on hold whenever the Commander disappeared into the ship rather than her quarters. More often than not the Commander went down to the main battery specifically because she didn't want to be disturbed.

Garrus wouldn't admit that he understood it, why she wandered into his little hiding spot on the Normandy. After every mission, especially the ones that involved a firefight; which meant all of them; she would check on the squad first. More often than not it meant whichever specialist was fit for the job before coming down to see Garrus himself, as she always preferred to have him at her back.

Sometimes when she came in she would watch him, see what he was doing and discuss alternatives. Sometimes she was a little more interested in Turians and their methods, how the Normandy compared to them, how his thoughts and engineering history compared to her own. Sometimes she would come in and sit down on the crates, slid her feet out of her shoes, and assume what he had come to recognize as a posture of human meditation. That always made him uncomfortable, the way she sat there unmoving for so long, aware that she was there but unsure if he was meant to say anything or just leave her be. Eventually she would stretch out, put her shoes back on, and wander off. Maybe she'd invite him for a drink, or maybe she'd disappear to her cabin without a word, either way he breathed relief when she did.

This time it was just a little too much. It had been a fairly routine fight, a Blue Suns base; enjoying being able to put a damper on their operations, but there was something different about the smell, what Liara would probably call an aura. Eventually his restless shifting won out and he turned away from his busywork at the console to look at her, arms crossed over his armor.

"If you'll pardon the insubordination commander, what are you doing?"

"I didn't know you were such an upstanding member of the alliance Vakarian."

"Well I just- What?" That was not the response that he had been expecting.

"I took fifteen hundred credits off you at cards two nights ago." She opened her eyes, the orange lights of the main battery softening the piercing grey of her usual expression, but Garrus knew it was there all the same.

"Perhaps, but I seem to remember that those credits ended up in Miranda's pocket before the night was over." He countered after a beat.

"Damn biotics, I know she cheats." They shared a laugh, which helped put the turrian at ease even though he was pretty sure it was all planned; he didn't think there was any conversation Shepard participated in that she didn't have complete control over.

"My point is Garrus that gambling with the crew doesn't exactly scream commanding officer on most vessels, at least not in my experience." She shrugged, leaning back against the wall, apparently intent to settle in on the conversation. He still wasn't entirely certain what the point of this conversation was but he had started it, and knowing Shepard he wasn't going to be able to get out of it easily. She liked leaving people in confusion, which was great until those people were him.

"While I always appreciate being reminded of my heavy losses in card games, I'm not entirely certain of your point here commander."

"The point is that I have a name, and on board this ship, _particularly_ this ship considering it's about as related to the alliance as a geth dreadnaught is to the quarians, commander doesn't have a whole lot of meaning." She pointed out, for all that she protested that she wasn't working for Cerberus and she never would, they weren't exactly out here on Alliance business, or even Spectre for that matter.

The turian rolled his shoulders, unsure if he was restless because she was right or because it went against everything turian that he understood. Vigilante he may be but he'd done his requisite years in the military.

"Alright then Shepard, what are you doing down here?" His voice dropped a tone or two and his mandibles twitched to give away just how nervous he felt about using her name.

"One of these days I'll get you to call me Jane. I'm down here because it's quiet and no one looks for me." She shrugged as though that had been entirely obvious.

"So are your quarters, unless that rodent of yours has learned to speak." He didn't trust anything labeled _space hamster_.

"Nah but every time someone thinks they need me that blasted comm beeps and interrupts everything." She grumbled, leaning her head back and closing her eyes now that this was moving towards more casual conversation.

"Everything?" His mandibles flicked out and up, a turian equivalent of the way humans raised their eyebrows.

"Meditations Garrus, a human method of entering deep thought and processing things, considering things, looking inside. Besides, down here I feel at home with the ship. She may not be the alliance vessel I first captained but she's still mine." Shepard exhaled slowly, obviously unhappy with the phrasing but she didn't seem like she was going to try and expound further. On the bright side this was the first thing in this entire conversation that Garrus actually felt like he understood.

"Spirit of the ship, the crew. Makes sense." He nodded, stepping away from the console finally to take a seat on one of the boxes nearby, since it seemed Shepard wasn't going to let him go back to work now that he had started this. Also from the look of curiosity on her face he was going to be expected to explain himself. "It's a turian... well I guess humans would call it a religion. Spirits tied to places and concepts, they're indifferent generally, and mostly they just exist. They embody the meaning of places and things and offer inspiration or guidance. In this case, the Normandy and everything she's been through, the spirit of comradery amongst the crew." He elaborated as he settled against the wall with arms crossed over his armor. Shepard's nose twitched as she considered the information, a strange quirk she was using with increasing frequency that the turian hadn't quite placed the origin of yet.

"Not entirely inaccurate." Shepard agreed slowly, considering what he had said. The turian himself could not entirely pinpoint why her passive response made him so nervous, though it probably had something to do with the fact that Shepard never did anything passively. "Makes even more sense to come down here then, nothing else on this ship embodies the Normandy's spirit nearly as much."

"Well arguably that would be you comma-" He cut off when she fixed him with a glare, "Shepard. This is just a guess but I don't think any of us are here because we enjoy the idea of suicide missions." Shepard laughed at that, and while it had definitely been a joke his nose twitched in confusion anyway. He didn't think it had been that funny.

A fact Shepard seemed to pick up on. "I like to think I'm not that narcissistic as to be appealing to myself for inspiration." She teased, shaking her head at him. Garrus got a little bit of a chuckle about that.

"Don't see why not, you've done a damn sight more for this galaxy than anyone else." Though his tone was light and mostly teasing, it was still true and he couldn't quite hide the serious glint from his eyes. Certainly it missed the point of the idea about the spirits and meditation, but it was also true of the fact that if anyone had ever made a show of bravery, well Shepard was not one to turn tail that was for certain.

"Well that would all be meaningless if it weren't for my XO." She worked her shoulders loose with a roll and stretched out her back, never content with sitting still, the meditations were the only time he'd seen her still for that long.

"I didn't know you and Miranda were so close, she seemed much fonder of my credits." Garrus fixed her with a stern look, though he was still mostly sarcastic, there was something about the realization that he genuinely didn't know about any history between Shepard and the Cerberus agent.

"Yes Garrus clearly it's Cerberus in charge of this vessel." She rolled her eyes in obvious sarcasm, clearly unamused with his observation, not that Garrus could pinpoint exactly why. Apparently his expression made this obvious. "Seriously? For a sniper you're pretty blind. You're my XO Garrus, always have been. Soon as I looked at the dossiers I knew where I was going Archangel, I couldn't do this without you." Despite her sarcasm the words were genuine, he could see it in the way she leaned back, she crossed her arms over her chest defensively, hiding herself from the possibility that he didn't agree with her, or worse that he was offended by the idea. Contrary to any of that, however, Garrus was more surprised than anything.

"I... wasn't aware that you looked upon my opinion so highly..." He worked through the words awkwardly, sub-harmonics shaking at the concept.

"And why is that Vakarian? You've been with me since I became a Spectre, and you were one of the few that saw through Saren from the start; you have a good head on your shoulders." Genuine confusion wrinkled her brow and twitched her nose, an interesting mix of human and turian cues of discomfort.

"I'm not exactly the picture of success, commander. C-sec, Spectre, Vigilante, I don't have a lot of victories under my name." He looked away, towards the console, unable to look her in the eye as he listed his failures. Even movement from Shepard didn't make him look up, expecting it to be simply her shifting around again. At least until he felt hands on the bandages over the side of his face that made him jump.

"You've been at my back, you've supported even the more outlandish bits of this madness, and you've only shot at me once. On purpose, at least." Though her voice was flat the expression in her eyes was teasing, "Whatever else you may have done Garrus, your service on the Normandy has been above and beyond anything I could ask for. Your service records on the battlefield are flawless, and you've taken shots meant for me on more than one occasion." Ah, she had noticed that. As much as he would have preferred she hadn't, he'd ended up in med-bay in her place on many occasions. Hardly sound strategy, but if the commander were wounded they would be set back considerably in this one-ship war.

Not even considering what may or may not happen if her wounds turned out to be fatal. If he were being entirely honest with himself that was what made his heart sink now, and what drove him between Shepard and enemy fire on the battlefield. He was not being entirely honest with himself.

“You’re the best gun I’ve got on this ship Garrus, and nothing beats a turian tactician on the ground. Except maybe a bigger gun.” She glanced across to the bench where his sniper was scattered in pieces, a work of cleaning and upgrading in progress, as she returned to her original seat. “Remind me we need go shopping next time we dock for repairs.”

“Are you implying something Shepard.” He shot back sarcastically, ignoring all of the other implications lurking in her words.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, but being my right hand does come with certain benefits. Are you really complaining about a better gun Vakarian?” There was something about negotiating with Shepard that felt as threatening as any battle, and he knew when he had lost a battle.

“Of course not commander.” A metaphorical white flag of surrender reaching out to the woman, he could name plenty of other people on this ship more qualified for the job than he was, but she obviously wasn't interested in hearing it.  


“Shepard.” She scolded teasingly, fixing him with a stern look.

“Shepard.” He repeated reflexively.

“Jane.”

“Jane.” He agreed automatically, and then swore as she cracked a particularly smug grin.

“Good talk Garrus, and thanks.” She stood, sliding her feet back into her shoes and arching her back to stretch out.

“Errr, for?” He was pretty sure that she had won every pass in this particular conversation, what could he possibly have contributed.

“Having my back, letting me hide out down here, sharing about the spirits. Being the best damn friend I’ve got. Take your pick.” She shrugged as she stepped by him, the door hissing open as she moved. For a moment Garrus just watched as she walked back down the hallway, until the doors hissed shut again.

“Spirits.” He muttered, shaking his head and standing up to return to reassembling the sniper rifle.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic in the Mass Effect fandom, and my first fic in probably years. It's a little rusty but this is the first time I've been inspired to write fic by a work of media so here we are. Thanks to my girlfriend for lightly beta-ing it and prompting me to post this. Thank you for reading, hope it was tolerable!


End file.
